


Fall Around

by dragonswithjetpacks



Series: Ferelith Moonshade - The Book Keeper [11]
Category: Baldur's Gate, Forgotten Realms
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Porn With Plot, Roughness, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:00:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28678545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonswithjetpacks/pseuds/dragonswithjetpacks
Summary: Ferelith ventures out on a personal quest after receiving information  there may be a shop nearby that can help her translate a tome in her possession. Though she is willing  to go alone, Astarion insists on trailing along. And thus ensues a  playful adventure.  (Bonus content in further chapters)
Relationships: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s), Astarion/Female Charname (Baldur's Gate), Astarion/Ferelith
Series: Ferelith Moonshade - The Book Keeper [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2092497
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	1. Fall Around

**Author's Note:**

> Context: Ferelith is originally my 5th Edition character that I'm obsessed with. She is an Archfey Warlock with a crossbow. So she's a healthy mix of a battle witch, basically. Her background consists of finding an old book with runes that she cannot translate. Having Eyes of the Rune Keeper only allows her to read different languages. But not codes. The runes, which are ancient themselves, make up a code in which she has been determined to discover. This lead to a downward spiral in which she became obsessed and somewhat mad. The village she lived in accused her of being a hag, held her responsible for the death of her parents, and chased her out, despite having no magic ability at all. Between her torment and the power of the book, a powerful fey rescued her from certain demise. She became a warlock and traveled for some time to perfect her abilities. Having her patron now attached, she was able to resist the crazed obsession with the book. Though she was still set on deciphering it after discovering it was of ancient dark fey origin. So this has been her goal and is what caused her to make many of the poor decisions in her life. She is still trying to make sense of the text to this day.

It was a rounded stone staircase to a two story cabin that Ferelith walked up. The sign hanging from the doorway read _Apothecary_. Nothing else. No clever title, no surnames. Just... _Apothecary_. It was usually those kind of shops she enjoyed the most. They were always straightforward. And she could generally find what she was looking for. She had insisted on going alone, but Astarion refused to allow her to travel by herself. There was too much at risk and he claimed he would rather act as a gentlemen escort than sit at camp with nothing to do. He was mostly quiet, which was odd, but she enjoyed his company nonetheless. He followed her up the staircase, also observing the sign swinging above the door.

"Charming," he said behind her. "You're sure this is it?"

"If not, we'll find out shortly."

"Fair enough," he sighed.

Ferelith opened the door to find a quaint room filled with shelves. Unfortunately... most of them were empty. Behind the desk was a man dressed in dark green robes. He seemed to be busy binding some sort of pouch, but tossed it aside the moment he saw customers.

"Good afternoon!" he smiled. "I'm afraid the shop is low on stock. But I'm sure can help you find something today."

"I'm not exactly here to buy anything. I just had a few questions about some runes I found."

"Runes?" his brow lowered. "Well, I'm a bit rusty. But I can see what I can do."

Ferelith looked over her shoulder to her companion. Perhaps they had chose poorly after all. The man lead them around his counter to a small sitting area in the corner. Behind it was an archway. She did the best she could to lean to get a better look, but the man took notice and put himself between her and the doorway. He gave Astarion a warning glare before he sat at the table.

"Let's see what you have," he diverted their attention.

Ferelith took her component bag from around her shoulder, hanging it off the back of the chair. She sat down and reached into a breast pocket behind the front of her leather vest. She tossed the book on the table, causing the shop keep to lean back as if it produced some sort of foul odor.

"What is this?" he said, his tone suddenly changing.

"A book," she replied nonchalantly.

"That's not a book... that's a plague. A bane cursed upon the unfortunate."

Ferelith exchanged a look with Astarion, who remained standing next to her.

"I'm only trying to decipher a message within it."

The shop keep laughed, holding his stomach so as not to burst. "The best thing you can do with a book like this is to throw it away."

"I can't," she leaned forward. "If you could just-"

"I'll not touch anything that dark from the fey," he shook his head. "Why don't you tell me where you got it?"

A hand slammed down onto the table, shaking the book upon it. Astarion was leaning on that hand, hovering over the shop keep, his eyes burning red.

"It's nothing more than just a silly book," he attempted persuasion. "If you could simply just...look at it, that is all we ask."

The man was suddenly shaken, but intrigued by Astarion in someway.

"You look different as well," he narrowed his eyes. "Where are _you_ from?"

Ferelith let out a heavy sigh. "Perhaps we could trade, sir. I have a variety of items, here. I could pay you for your time."

The man looked over, glancing down into the bag that she now held open. The contents inside made him bolt from his chair. Astarion abruptly pushed him back down as Ferelith casually rummaged through the bag.

"Both of you," his face was filled with horror, Astarion's hand still lingering. "Creatures of the night. Fowl descendants of darkness. I'll having nothing to do with your evil plots."

"I assure you, this is far more boring than whatever it is you're imagining," Astarion crossed his arms.

"Get out of my shop!"

Ferelith froze, holding a jar of what appeared to be wasps in her hand. She looked to Astarion, who shrugged and gave her a questioning look. He was asking for permission, but she shook her head, shoving the jar back in her bag.

"We'll go," she rose from her chair.

Astarion placed a hand on her lower back, guiding her closer to the door. It was an affectionate gesture that was odd to her, but she allowed it, feeling some sort of desire from him to protect her. The man fumbled behind them, mumbling about hellfire and dark fey. Ferelith did what she could to ignore him, but she could feel the rage swelling inside her. As they exited the door, Ferelith turned, lowering Astarion's hand from her side.

"I apologize for the inconvenience," she gave a slight bow.

"I will not be fooled by your disguise," he stated in an angry tone. "You can't hide what you are, hag."

Before words could be formed, a hand snapped into her vision around the man's throat. Ferelith could see the indention of his fingertips in his neck. His eyes bulged and Astarion's fangs were out.

"I would be very careful what you say next," he said. "If I even give you the chance."

The man tried to speak but only choked on his tongue. Astarion refused to let go, waiting until his face turned red before he released him, causing him to step back to catch his balance. He coughed loudly, gasping as the air tried to come in and out of his starved lungs. He reached out, grabbing a rail to keep himself upright. Looking up, his bloodshot eyes met Astarion, who's hands were flexing at his side, at the ready. Ferelith's eyes widened, a sudden interest peeking at his rage.

"I'll call the guard," his voice was hoarse. "I'll call them. And they'll cut that pretty head of yours, revealing what you truly are. They'll hunt down your abomination. Both of you are damned."

Astarion lurched forward, but felt the warmth of Ferelith's hand on his arm. The man flinched backward, falling onto the stone steps. He reached beneath his shirt, grasping for what appeared to be an amulet of sorts. Small mutters of prayer came from his mouth as he looked about, questioning if shouting for help would be worth it. Ferelith knelt down to the man, her pale yellow eyes looking at what he clutched to his chest.

"You'll die soon," she said calmly. "But not by my hand. I'll find what I need elsewhere."

Astarion bared his fangs one last time to keep the man quiet. Ferelith, on the other hand, was already descending the stairs. Her face was full of frustration to the point a wrinkle had formed on the bridge of her nose. He knew the moment she did not deny his touch in the shop, she was heavy with emotion. Ferelith was not a touch sort of person. However, something changed with her as they rounded the corner and she pulled him down into an alley. He couldn't ask why, as there was no time. She pulled him forward with her arms wrapped tightly around him, shoving her face into his shoulder to muffle her screams. Astarion rose both hands in the air, looking from side to side as she released her anger. He could feel the vibrations on his skin and oddly wished it was more attractive than it really was. 

When Ferelith had finished her face had turned red. She panted heavily and pushed him away, brushing her hair from her face. With a deep inhale she held her breath, straightened her tunic, and exhaled. As she did, the color drained from her face. Her true self had returned. 

"Fucking bastard," she mumbled to herself, her hands steadying her at the hips.

"Do you want me to go back? I could just kill him."

She was reminded of his face, sharp and violent. Something inside her, something from a dark place, rose up and began to prod at her insides. This beautiful man with twinkling eyes and charming smile had turned into something from the Nine Hells in a matter of seconds. The smooth voice that calmed her on some nights transformed into the growl of a monster. His sharpened fangs were more than just tools, they were weapons. That prodding became persistent. She wanted him to rip her apart. Ferelith turned to him, her expression fading from anger to what he was sure he could not mistake for lust. For the second time, Ferelith rushed him. With her hands clutching tightly to his collar, she pulled him down and into her lips. Though unsuspected, he welcomed the heated, heavy, and somewhat sloppy kiss. His hands came to her face, digging his fingers into the back of her hair. Her hands flattened against his chest and with a good shove, she pressed his back into the stone building behind them. The pace of her lips quickened, hungry for more of him and enticing his aggression. There was no shame to him, but he still worried about the attention they could bring after the uproar they had just caused. Dying in an alley wasn't ideal, but it wouldn't have been a bad way to go with her at his lips. He slid his hands down her back, placing each on of her cheeks in the palms of his hands. He squeezed firmly, lifting her to her to the tips of her toes.

"I have an idea," she said on the cusp of his lips.

"If it involves being inside you, I won't need much persuading," he replied quickly.

"The shop keep is distracted with the guard. The building is empty."

Astarion's face lit up, a wide smile forming and showing all the points of his teeth. "You wicked... wicked woman."

There was no hesitation from Ferelith as she turned, grabbing his hand and pulling him behind her. Following was easy, his steps correlating with hers as they ran back down the alley. She marched up the steps, looking back to smile at him. They would have to go around another alley to the back of the house. Somehow, she knew the way, as if she had been planning to break in all along. Watching the back of her, her hair bouncing as she ran, the over the shoulder smile, her hand clutching his own... something about it made him feel free. There was no beat to his heart, but something in his chest rushed through him. 

It tightened as they approached the back of the shop. Ferelith loosened her grasp to step to the window. Peering in through a crack, she had been correct. The man had left the house empty. Unguarded. And was more than likely leaving to report the incident to the town guard. The window was boarded, but it was nothing they could not pry open. Ferelith was far more eager than he was. And she used the butt of her crossbow to burst open the remaining board blocking her entrance. She tossed her crossbow down, leaping with ease into the window. Astarion followed immediately after.

The room they landed in appeared to be the mixing room in the back. There were dried herbs hanging from the rafts, empty cauldrons waiting be scrubbed, various notes nailed to the walls, and random tools of the craft scattered about. But the one thing that was abundant in the room... were tables. And it took Ferelith no time to pick one, scattered with notes and herbs. Dragging Astarion with her, she planted herself on the surface. He accepted her desire, closing the gap between them tightly between her legs. They resumed their kiss from the alleyway, Ferelith reaching desperately for his breeches.

This was a side to her he had never seen before. Not outside of dreams, anyway. There was a ferocity to her kiss and a look in her eye that sparked something inside him. It made him impatient as well. As she had finished untying the string at his waste, she reached down the front of his breeches, grabbing him around the shaft and pulling upward. There was a heavy exhale as she moved her hand around it, feeling the wetness from his tip with her thumb. Her boots needed to be removed. Now. His hands were quick, sliding them off one leg and then the other. He wasn't quite sure where he threw them, but he was willing to purchase her new ones if he had to. Her leathers were next, in which case she had had already began to untie them. With one hand, he lifted her from the table. And with a combine effort from the two, they slid the pants to her ankles. One leg he managed to slide off, the other he didn't have time for.

Rising between her legs, he grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her forward aggressively and kissing her with an open mouth. She pulled him forward by the hips, thrusting herself into him at the edge of the table. As he reached down to pull himself out, he realized how incredibly hard he truly was. She was pulling at him, pulling at his darker instinct. With his hand still around the tip, he moved a finger to the cloth of her small clothes that blocked his path. He shifted them to side and rubbed the tip of his finger against her, feeling how ready she was to have him. She squirmed, biting his lip and making him groan. She drew him in again , his hands now buried under the sides of his pants and digging into his hip bones. He slid his hand down to the base of his shaft, feel it slick from his wetness and now hers.

He moaned loudly when he dove inside, causing him to rear back his head. The soft warmth of her walls tightened around him. She kissed him on the neck, stretching up to bite his jaw. He moaned again, pulling out and thrusting back in. Her hands rose under his shirt, clawing at his lower back as he began to pump inside her. He kissed her again, breathing heavily through his nose. The more he was inside, the faster he began to move. Small whimpers came from the back of her throat. He had decided he wanted to hear more of them. He removed his lips to bury his face into her shoulder. Leaning forward, he placed his hands on either side of her and onto the table, causing her to lean back and push her bottom half further to edge. He moved harder, making her cry out with pleasure, clutching his back to stay balanced. Her legs rose and she wrapped them around him. But he needed more space. He moved his hand to her thigh, where he grabbed it and lifted to plunge deeper into her.

It felt good. It felt so damn good. Her body tightened and she felt the first convulsion that sent a chill through her body, signalling the beginnings of her climax. Astarion groaned deeply, a heavy breath that billowed from the bottom of his lungs. Her pleasure was ecstasy to him. The more she shouted, the harder he thrust. He straightened himself up, watching his manhood slide in and out of her. Her cloth panties were still pushed to the side and he decided they were a hindrance to his sight. There wasn't time for pause, so reach down and tugged. They ripped apart at his hand with no trouble at all. However, the full impact of seeing himself inside her was overwhelming and he quickly looked away as he felt a twitch that would cause him to to come to quickly. He looked at her, instead, watching her body bounce in motion with his movements. Her head was craned back, her neck arched upward and he could see her cheeks getting red. Her nails dug into his flesh and he growled, but did not stop. He slid his arm through the crook in her leg below the knee, holding her at her lower back. His movement slowed to a steady in-and-out thrust. Her walls were pulsing, ready and wanting... and waiting. The hand on the table came up her back, straightening her and resting on the back of her head. His fingers tangled into her hair and he could feel her hot breath on his neck. He tightened his grip, feeling another surge for himself, as well.

"Come for me," he said into her ear.

A soft moan fell from her lips, slipping into his ear. Her hands retracted from his back, slithering their way back down to his hips where she felt him push and pull.

"Make me," she whispered back.

He pulled her away from him, gently, to look her in the eyes. There was the spark again. The look of defiance. It made him want to slam her onto the table. But he couldn't. Not yet. He wanted to make her suffer. He pumped slowly, feeling the insides tighten each time he passed through. She was close. And as her face became askew, mouth open with hooded eyes, he could see she was resisting. She was voluntarily tightening herself and releasing, holding on to extend her pleasure. He grinned, thoroughly enjoying watching the expression on her face change as he went deeper and deeper with every sway.

"Oh," she said, her mouth hanging open. "Oh... my..."

Her hands squeezed his hips, desperately trying to move him. But he was in control. And the consistency of his of his cock passing through her walls and touching deep inside her sent a steady flowing chill through her body. He could feel it, too, her walls no long pulsing... but tightening. He pressed his lips firmly together, fighting his own climax as she became wetter around him. He hummed loudly, his hand releasing the back of her head and slamming onto the table.

"Don't stop," she begged, loosening her grasp and letting him move.

She felt it from her fingertips down to the very tips of her toes, a warm sensation that tingled her entire body. And at the center was Astarion, still steadily and slowly pumping into her. There was loud cry followed by desperate gasps for air and small whimpers. He placed his other hand onto the table giving one last thrust into her as he felt her loosen. His head lifted, kissing her immediately. And he would have been able to contain himself... if he hadn't felt the bite of her teeth. He pulled away, but she hadn't let go, his lip sliding between them. The darkness came back, just when he thought he had controlled it. He only had to take a half step to slide her off the surface. Her legs were shaking and he held her up, helping her turn over. A foot came down on to the pants still wrapped around her ankle. And as he turned her, they came off her foot. Ferelith tried to steady herself, but it was no use. Astarion had thrust himself back inside her without any gentle ease. Her arms rose to the table and she tried to plant them down before he reached up, grabbing one of her wrists and hold it behind her back. With her free arm, she reached up to grab the other end... but could not find. Instead, she wrinkled the research that was left on the table. It rocked back and forth as he slammed himself against her. And it was all she could do to just enjoy it. Her eyes rolled back and she could feel herself tighten around him again, the sensitivity from before heightening his deep thrusts.

The slickness from her orgasm made it easy for him to slide in and out without resistance, allowing his pace to move faster. And harder. Ferelith could not control the cries coming from her mouth as he touched the very center of her over and over. He had another urge to grab her, his sinister thoughts coming out again. Not wanting to completely incapacitate her, he grabbed her rear and squeezed it until he made a hand print. He watched her bounce against his hips, his cock sliding effortlessly into her. He watched for a moment, the visual combining with the sensation sending him over the edge. He let go of her wrist, grabbing both her hips and pulling her closer, thrusting deeper inside her. He pushed two more time before finally feeling himself release. He moaned loudly, continuing to bounce her on him as he felt his manhood twitch inside her. He pulled himself out, examining the creamy liquid on his member.

He let go of Ferelith, but quickly caught her as she began to lean too far to one side. She turned around with his hands to guide her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

"More than alright," she panted, hoisting herself up.

They both began to laugh, Ferelith leaning her forehead against his and running her hands up his arms.

"Here," he lifted her onto the table, knowing she would spill what was inside her onto the research they had just spoiled. "Let me find something to clean up with."

Looking around, he didn't trust anything inside the apothecary to clean himself with. He casually walked into the front area and noticed a robe hanging on a coat rack near the door. He gave a quick glance out the window and saw no one was near the shop. Then grabbed the robe to head back to Ferelith, who was patiently waiting and catching her breath. He wiped himself first, which was hardly a mess at all, and handed it to his partner. He tucked himself back into his breeches and tied it up just as neatly as before.

"Could... could you maybe not watch?" she said standing up.

There was a small drip that descended down her leg. He lifted a brow, feeling himself harden again at his handy work.

"I suppose I could give the lady some privacy," his eyes rose to meet her.

He gave a gracious bow before turning his back, walking toward a different part of the room. It was covered in books. Many of them old and covered in dust, as if they had not been touched in a very long time. The titles seemed to have obscure names. Something similar to what Ferelith would read. He had no knowledge of such things, but he could tell magic from cultism. And these books were certainly of a darker nature. He grabbed one in particular, an emerald green book with a faded gold bird stamped on the side. He opened it to see it was written in elvish. Something he was acquainted with. But then other parts he could not understand. And as he flipped through the book, he noticed small charts of what appeared to be runes.

"Ferelith..." he called quietly.

"Yes?" she asked sweetly.

He smiled, wanting to look at her, but not wanting to disrupt her space. He had noticed she was always more pleasant after a good orgasm. This wasn't the first time she used that tone with him. He adored it and the warm feeling it gave him.

"You should look at this. It appears we were in the right place after all."

He heard the thud of the robe falling to the floor and the soft pitter patter of her feet trotting toward him. She snatched the book from him, causing to look over with disdain. With her leathers draped over her shoulders, she began to flip through the pages. Her mind lost in thought and her eyes stuck in a trance, she sat the book down the table. They didn't leave the page as she slid her legs through the pantholes.

"That stingy prick," she said, her eyes still darting through the words.

"I thought he didn't deal with the fey?"

"I don't think he does. This is sylvan. Druidic. Old... druidic."

She hopped pulling her pants all the way to her waste but when she reached down to tie them, she didn't feel the strings. A quick flash of annoyance came onto her face, but she was still too focused.

"It's part of a set..." she flipped the book over to see the bird. "One of three. I believe I have another that belongs to it."

"Are any of these part of the set?"

Ferelith finally looked up to Astarion, who was gesturing to the series of books he had discovered. Her hand touched each one as her eyes scanned over their spines. She took out several of them, opening them and finding more runes, more sigils, more spells. One book in particular she tapped.

"This, here. Abyssal? Infernal?"

"Infernal," he said, leaning over her.

"You can read it?"

"Some," he said.

"Perfect... that will make transcribing it much easier," her eyes lit up when she looked at him.

"Let's get started. I'll grab the rest of the books," he began to stack them together on the table.

Ferelith placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to turn and look in her direction. It slid to his neck while her other caressed the side of his face.

"I've never been more attracted to you," she said before she kissed him.

Wrapping his arms around her, he felt the sudden urge to throw her on another table.

"Do we have time time for another round?" he said above a whisper, his hand sliding underneath her.

"Doubtful," she said with a satisfied exhale, but slid has hand away.

Ferelith turned back toward the table, placing the books she had pulled out into her satchel. Before she could face the bookshelf to grab the others, she felt hands around her waste. He pressed her against the table, his teeth grazing the side of her neck. She folded, pressing her backside into his crotch, dropping the bag and letting out a loud moan. He reached back down, tucking his hand beneath her breeches where he could feel she wasn't wearing anything beneath them. Just as she reached up to grab the back of his head, there was a sudden scream from the door.

Astarion pulled his hand away, quickly turning to see the shop keep had made his way back. Ferelith reached down, grabbing the bag with the books in it. He shoved her toward the window and she climbed through clumsily, picking up her bow on the ground. She took off running before she knew Astarion was behind her. But within a few short seconds, she could hear his footsteps followed by the cursing of a man leaning out the window. Ferelith was fast, especially on bare feet, but Astarion was by far faster. She could hear him panting behind her. She hadn't the slightest idea of where she was going, but she zipped through the alleyways until she knew they were safe. She found a path with a stack of crates and slowed her pace to flop down behind them. Astarion was right behind her, placing his back on the wall and sliding down next to her. Breathing heavily, they both looked at one another. And much like two troublesome children, the second their eyes met, they burst in laughter. Ferelith paused to admire the authenticity of his laugh. Seeing him smile like that, his head back with his laughter echoing off the walls, it made her feel a genuine sense of joy that usually had a hard time finding a place in her life.

"That," he caught his breath, "was not what I expected when you said you needed a few things from town."

"You'll learn not to have expectations with me," she grinned.

"Spontaneity all the way through, then?" he turned to look at her, taking her hand into his. "Should be fun."

He lifted it, kissing her knuckles and holding her hand to his mouth while looking at her with large eyes. Ferelith rolled her eyes, taking her hand back from him.

"Alright, enough," she rose to her feet. "Let's get back to camp."

There was a sudden pull on her strings... oddly, from the back. She looked over at Astarion, tying her breeches for her.

"Are you aware your pants are on backwards?"

"What? No!"

"Would you like to fix them?"

"No... You can take them off for me later."

"Oh, yes. Be sure to remind me, darling," he turned around, waving his hands behind his back. "Now, get on my back. I'll carry you. Just until we're out of town. These city streets are filthier than the dirt trodden paths."

Ferelith adjusted her satchel across her shoulder, feeling the heaviness from the weight of the books. She looked at Astarion's back, his hands stretched behind him waiting for her. It was clear she wanted to decline, but something was preventing her from doing so. The fluttering of joy came through her chest again. Astarion looked over his shoulder, becoming impatient.

"Well? Come on."

One last smile to him, and she reluctantly hopped on his back, hearing him make a small grunt as he hoisted her up.

  
"Do you think he'd be willing to give back my boots?" she said, her head resting atop his.

"We can certainly try." Astarion shrugged. "If not, my offer still stands on killing him."

And they both grinned, the wind blowing slightly through the wide alleyway as they made their voyage out of town.

(Small updates in next chapters)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this is the first time using actual words for things. I'm just experimenting with my writing style. The main focus here was the spontaneous deed. But I'm not sure if I prefer it or ambiguity to the actual forwardness of word usage. So let me know what you guys think! Hope you liked this!
> 
> This still feels unfinished to me. I will probably come back and edit this eventual for some better wording in places. Still, it seems like a happier time. And I wasn't even sure where I was going with this. It turned out nice.


	2. A Shop Keep's Dilemma

The shop keep rubbed the back of his head, his eyes wide as he looked around the room. His work stations had been defiled. One table had been turned almost completely with papers wrinkled and ripped atop it, one leg looking oddly questionable. Another table had books thrown about and on further investigation, his library was completely out of order. A pair of small clothes sat torn apart on the floor. And his good winter robe was thrown across the room. He picked it up, and noticing the folds had not come apart, he pulled at them. Th cloth unfolded and fabric made a horrifying sticky tearing sound.

"Ughghghh," he tossed the robe aside. "That's it. That's it, I have to burn the store down."

 **BONUS:** Headline reads _LOCAL SHOP KEEP FINDS VAMPIRE FONDLING THIEVING GIRLFRIEND IN RESIDENCE. SUSPECTS AT LARGE._


	3. Boots and Books

Morning came too soon, but Ferelith woke quite easy. She rose, looking about the camp to meet the eyes of her partner. However, she found he was not there. No worry followed as she was sure he was off tending to something else. Grabbing a cleaning cloth from her pack, she headed into the wood to find a spring nearby to freshen up. When she came back, Astarion was still missing. Grumbling from annoyance, she began to pack up her things. Just as she finished she heard a loud thump behind her.

"I hope you made room," Astarion's voice spoke, startling her.

She turned, but before she looked at him, she caught the shape of books. Her eyes darted to the ground. And there, along with her boots, was a stack of the shop keep's library.

"You went back," she grinned, grabbing them and flipping through the one on top.

"It was my fault we had to leave them behind," he said, kneeling down and sitting in front of her. "So I thought I'd make myself useful."

Reading a few lines of the first book her eyes lit up. She snapped it shut, tossing it to the ground with a playful grin. She leaned over the books, causing the first two topple over, and kissed him affectionately on the cheek.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"You're not going to ask about the shop keep?"

"To be quite frank," she began picking the books up, "I don't really care."

Astarion smiled wickedly with a half shrug. He had planned on telling the tale of how he broke into the shop and stole the books. But perhaps it was better this way that she didn't know of the life he spared. Though, he did have a few words with the man about respecting women of power. He watched her happily shoving the books into her bag. A thought crawled into the back of his head. One that suggested that he was the reason she was happy in that moment. Something swelled in his chest, but he quickly shoved it aside. There was no time to think like that.


End file.
